Supernatural: The Joys of Unrequited Love
by MangetusProdigyPhoenix101
Summary: Max and Karen are unlikely partners. Max loves to drink and have one-night stands. Karen is a book-worm and is still looking for love, even though she feels she'll never find it with her life as a Hunter. The one thing that makes them partners, and damn good ones at that, is that they understand each other. And, Karen knows that Max is still looking for the one. Dean/OC Sam/OC
1. Hunter, Hunted

**Hunter, Hunted**

"See you tomorrow, Dan."

The blonde woman exited the bar, glad that she was finally off her shift. It was late, as always, and she was tired after her long shift, wanting to get home and go to bed. She fumbled for her keys, walking down the sidewalk with her seven-inch heels clicking as she did. Searching through her purse full of lipstick, credit cards, and receipts, she finally found her keys as she walked up to her small car, or rather junk pile, a Mazda Demio.

Inserting the key into the keyhole, she began the futile attempt to unlock the car she called hers.

"Come on, you piece of junk!" She growled with annoyance and turned the key the other way. Still, it didn't unlock. She whined loudly and stomped her foot, even though her heels made her feet ache. Her focus on unlocking her car made her unaware of the man slowly creeping up behind her. It was only when she went searching through her keys to find the right one, and hands roughly grabbed her throat that she became aware. She was turned and slammed into the car with enough force to form a bruise on her lower back. She stared, eyes wide and mouth open in mid-scream as the "man" revealed strange, extra sharp teeth. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Her heart thumped loudly against her chest as she gazed into the eyes of her killer, who was obviously not of this world. Just as he tilted her head to the side to view her neck, his head suddenly went flying and she screamed loudly as blood splattered across her face. She stared with wide eyes into the face of her savior, who was smirking and holding a bloody machete.

"They are so unoriginal, right? I mean honestly, the neck? Seriously?"

* * *

"So, that…" She searched for the right word. "_Thing_ was a vampire? I thought they were pale and wore like dark clothing."

Her savior, who sat across from her, casually drinking beer, shook her head. She sighed and leaned forward, and Danielle took a glance at the mostly empty beer bottle. It was her tenth so far and she had only started drinking ten minutes ago.

"Look, that whole dark clothing and pale shit is a complete myth. They are only identifiable by their retractable sharp teeth."

"Exactly. By the way, all of what we're telling you _cannot_ be repeated, alright? You probably think we're crazy, but it's true." The second one, her partner spoke.

"No." She glanced at them both. "I believe you."

Her _savior_ seems surprised, but nevertheless smirked and leaned back in her chair.

"How about a drinking contest, eh Karen?" She asked randomly, glancing at her partner. Danielle looked to the blonde who had just spoke, now known as Karen. Her hair was a dirty blonde, and cut short about her neck, some of which were in crisp ringlets. Her eyes were green-blue color and her eyebrows were rather angular about her eyes. Danielle could tell the only make-up she wore was eye-liner and a thin layer of sweet cherry lip gloss. She was wearing a white blouse-like shirt which had a lace-up design over her chest, underneath a soft brown jacket which was fashionably unzipped. Her bottoms were fairly dirty skinny blue jeans, and Danielle quickly took notice of the casual, dirty blue sneakers she wore. She has a lot of style _not_ to wear heels.

Karen's partner, who was also Danielle's savior was almost a complete polar opposite of Karen. Her hair was a dark black color and fell out about her shoulders in an unkempt, lazy style. Her eyes were a dark chocolate-brown, almost black color and her eyebrows were smoother than Karen's. She was wearing a heavy layer of hooker red lipstick, and dark black eye-liner, the latter giving her Marilyn Monroe bedroom eyes. Her clothing style was severely different from Karen's. She wore a dark black tank-top which hung low to show off her chest, underneath a dark blue utility-like jacket which was unbuttoned. Her pants were leather and had "Sexy" printed across the lower part of her butt. Her boots were platform combat boots and looked oddly military for being platforms. Danielle began to doubt, from her appearance and how bad her drinking problem was starting to look, that this "savior" really was a savior.

"No, thank you." Karen replied, snapping Danielle out of her thoughts. "We really don't need you drunk, Max."

Her savior was now identified as Max.

Max stood, polishing off her beer as she did. "Forget you then. I'm going to get drunk, find a man, and screw him. Goooodbye!"

Danielle watched as Max went into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and then left, shutting the door to the hotel room with an annoyed slam. Danielle flinched at the noise. Karen shifted, and sat down next to her.

"I'm sorry about her, she's a little…insensitive."

Danielle looked down.

"I can tell. Drinking problem?"

"Yeah." Karen looked down too, biting her lip.

Awkward silence filled the motel room and the both of them felt like they were suffocating. There was nothing more to say right? Danielle just needed to leave and get on her with her life; forget that she ever met hunters and a vampire.

"Let me get you something to drink. What are you in the mood for?" Karen stood, brushing her jeans and knocking some dirt onto the creaky wood floor.

"Definitely not beer."

Karen laughed and Danielle smiled at its sound.

"We have orange juice." Karen offered.

"Yeah, sure."

Karen smiled back and walked into the kitchen. Danielle listened as she opened the old fridge, which creaked and groaned as it was, and pulled the orange juice out.

"Karen?" Danielle asked, slipping her hand underneath the ugly pillow of the orange couch.

"Yeah?" Was the reply.

Danielle stood, walking to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. A knife flashed underneath the light as she revealed it at her side. She watched as Karen poured the orange juice, remaining unknowing of the deadly intent of the female behind her.

"Do you hunt for like a living? Or it a here and there thing?"

She walked closer to Karen, adjusting the handle of the knife in her hand. She could feel the heart of the woman in front of her beating, pumping that tasty liquid through her veins. She placed herself behind Karen, and went to slam the knife into—.

Karen abruptly turned around, roughly slamming _something_ into her abdomen. Her eyes immediately went wide as pain racked her body. She looked down at the knife in her abdomen then at the blonde holding the hilt. She looked angry, her soft features twisted in an ugly fashion.

"You would know, Danielle."

Danielle's eyes quickly darkened as death took her life and she fell to the ground as Karen pulled the knife out. She dropped, bleeding heavily and lifeless. Her eyes had already become glassy, and were reminiscent of marbles.

"I never wanted to kill you, Danielle, but you _killed_ those innocent people."

Karen sighed, dropping the knife and listening as it clanked loudly to the ground, smearing blood across the hardwood floor. She walked into the living room, quickly finding one of Max's "hidden" beers and sitting down on the back of the couch, taking a long drink as she looked down on the body of the hunter she had just killed. She needed to get drunk now.


	2. Lucky Stars

It was always like this.

They'd have a case, and Max would drink just about the entire time. When it was over, she'd go out to some bar, get drunk, sleep with someone, and then come back. After she came back, they'd gather their things and leave in the sleek red '58 Cadillac. Then, the argument would start.

Karen stared out the passenger window, fumbling with the edge of her brown jacket. _Rock of Ages_ by Def Leppard blared loudly through the old stereo of the Cadillac, and Max was silently singing along, drumming the steering wheel as she listened. Karen could only think about what she had done less than ten hours ago.

"Rock of ages! Rock of ages! Still a rollin', keep a-rolling, rock and rollin'!" Max finally broke out, and Karen flinched instantly. Max had a fairly "okay" singing voice, but it still really, really sucked. Karen listened as Max continued to sing the song, finishing it up with a loud laugh just like the singer did. Just as _Comin' Under Fire_ come on, Karen quickly flipped it off.

"Pull over." She said in a demanding tone. Max frowned, annoyed that she had turned off her music. Nevertheless, she quickly pulled the car to the side of the highway. The moment she could, Karen shoved open the door and got out, Max watching her as she did. Only when she popped the trunk open did Max get out and walk up to her. Karen removed her backpacks and slung them over her shoulder. Turning towards the way they were headed, she began to walk. Max kicked up dirt as she walked over to the hood and sat down, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Where are you going to get walking?" Max asked before sticking the cigarette in her mouth.

"Sioux Falls!" Karen yelled back. Max laughed.

"We're in Nebraska." Max replied. Karen paused and turned.

"So?" She asked.

"That's a four-hour _drive_." Max said pointedly.

"And a seventy-six hour walk. Yes, I know." Karen told her dryly.

"Google Maps?"

"Google Maps." Karen confirmed.

"Well fine, you wanna walk, go ahead." Max got back in the car and started the engine. Karen watched as she drove by, _Comin' Under Fire_ back on the stereo. Karen stood there for a few minutes, watching as the red Cadillac faded into the distance. She then adjusted her back-pack and began her walk again.

* * *

It was six 'o clock and the sun had already set. Karen walked along the dark interstate quietly, her jacket now fully zipped up and her backpack held around her waist by a belt. It hit the back of her leg with every step and she tried her best to ignore the nagging hunger and thirst she had. Fewer cars were passing by and a part of her hated it. Another part of her was glad, since she could make more progress getting to Sioux Falls without having to tell people she was fine and didn't need a ride, not that many people stopped anyway. She was surprised she had walked eight hours, but nevertheless smiled a bit at the accomplishment. This smile quickly faded as her sprained ankle began to hurt again. Sometimes, wearing dirty old sneakers was bad. A couple of miles back (maybe), she had sprained her ankle when she tripped. Of course, this only slowed her down, but she was determined to reach Sioux Falls.

She was dehydrated, hungry, hurt, and aching. She so badly wished there was a hotel somewhere around here, but a sign less than two feet back said the nearest hotel was twenty miles. She only had five dollars and fake credit cards, which made her ponder what she could really afford at a hotel. Probably food from the dumpster and a night in the broom closet. She adjusted her bag again and continued limping down the road. A familiar car, sleek black and a 1967 Chevy Impala pulled up beside her and she paused, looking through the window. She smiled into the faces of her favorite hunters: Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean turned the music down and looked over at her as Sam did.

"Karen?" He asked as a confirmation. She smiled.

"Dean. Sammy." She greeted.

"Where you headed?" Dean asked.

"Bobby's." She replied simply.

"Well, why are you walking? Isn't Max with you?" Dean questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"No. We…" She scratched her head. "Spilt up."

"Well we can give you a ride. We were going to stop at a hotel for the night, but we can get you there in the morning." Sam offered, giving me a sweet smile. Karen sighed.

"Well, I guess." She shrugged and Sammy smiled back at her, getting out to let her in.

"Thanks for helping me, you guys. You didn't have to." Karen finished her hamburger and grabbed a napkin, wiping the ketchup from the edge of her mouth. Dean just grinned.

"Glad to help a fellow hunter, right, Sammy?" Dean looked to his brother, who just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but my question is: what made you guys split up?" Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. "I mean you guys are like inseparable."

Karen sighed and leaned back in the chair, ruffling her wet blonde hair.

"It was just a tough, kind-of touchy case."

"So she left you on the side of the road in Aurora, Nebraska just because of a case?" Sam asked, sounding like he didn't like her partner already.

"Yeah." Karen shrugged. "It's not too big of a deal."

She looked to Dean. "Thanks for rescuing me though, you two."

Dean smiled.

"Not a problem, Kare."

"Don't call me that!" She said with a loud laugh and a wide-spread smile.

* * *

"Dean, I swear to god, you touch me while I am sleeping and I will shoot you." Karen said quietly, adjusting herself on the couch.

"Good night to you too, Karen." Dean said with a smirk.

"Sweet dreams." He added.

"Yeah…you too."

Karen drifted off into sleep.


	3. Partners?

**(Max POV)**

Life as a hunter wasn't easy. You never got a break; things were always after you. Nightmares became normal dreams that had piles of bodies in them, none of which were the monsters you hunted. You spent most of your time wondering why you hadn't been able to save them; why you had been so weak.

"So you left her on the side of the road?" Bobby shook his head. "You stupid idjit!"

I scoffed at Bobby's general reference to me.

"What was I supposed to do? Drag her happy little ass back into the car?"

I took a long drink of the whiskey after my statement, waiting for the old man's reply. He just shook his head and took a drink too.

"'Y know, you act like such a hard ass, Max. You really need to let somebody in, let them know you're alive inside."

I looked away from Bobby.

"Bobby, I'm a Hunter. We don't 'let people in'." I said, using air quotes. "In this life, you don't let anybody in 'cause when you do, they die on you and then you die on the inside."

I stood stiffly, swallowing the last of the alcohol and enjoying the taste as it slid down my throat. I slammed it back down on the desk, grabbed the book I had been looking through before my story, and walked out of his "living room", leaving him alone.

* * *

**(Karen POV)**

Sam shut the Impala door as I walked to the back of the Impala to grab my bags.

"Hey, uh, I'm gonna go see if he's actually here." Sam quickly left me and Dean, jogging to Bobby's house through the Salvage Yard. I rolled my eyes.

"He seemed in a hurry."

"Probably was." Replied Dean, popping the trunk open. My bags sat right on top, and I quickly grabbed them, placing my backpack on my shoulder and putting my suitcase with wheels on the ground.

"Thanks for helping me out, Dean." I said, sincere emotion seeping through my voice. I knew Dean wasn't the touchy-feely kind of guy, but I still wanted to thank him, you know? Even if it was a simple thing like picking me up and taking me to Bobby's (and feeding me, giving me a place to sleep…).

"Yeah." He gave me a smile. "Anytime."

"Well, not anytime." He joked, correcting himself.

I laughed.

"Alright then."

I turned to walk away, but heard him shift awkwardly (something rare of Dean) and call my name.

"Hey, Karen."

I paused and turned halfway, blonde hair whipping about some in the wind.

"Yeah?"

He looked back to the Impala's still open trunk.

"Never mind."

I smiled.

"Alright."

I brushed it off quickly, walking up the path to Bobby's house. I sighed heavily as I noticed the familiar Cadillac sitting up by the house, sparkling under the sun's rays.

_Max was here._

"Here we go."

* * *

I opened the door and was instantly hugged by a familiar old man. The scent of Bobby Singer greeted me and I felt a sense of relief wash over me in plentiful waves.

"Hey, Bobby." I said softly, wrapping my arms around him as his arms went ultra-tight around me.

"It's good to see you, Karen." He said quietly, emotion shining through his generally gruff attitude.

"Yeah." I pulled away. "You too."

"What is this I hear about you being a stubborn idjit, idjit?" He asked. I laughed.

"It's nothing, Bobby, I promise."

"Well look who _finally_ got here." The all-too familiar voice of Max quickly broke up the nice atmosphere surrounding the reunion.

"Well considering you left her on the side of the road, I think she's done pretty well." Sam said, appearing out of nowhere.

Max quickly looked to him, looking annoyed.

"I remember asking for your opinion." She paused. "Oh wait, I don't so shut up."

Sam pressed on.

"You're supposed to be her partner!" His voice was to the point of yelling. "You're supposed to have her back!"

"I do have her back!" Max stood quickly, her jaw set and her fist clenching. In seconds, Sam was sent to the floor and Max's fist was bleeding.

"You better watch where you stick your nose, jackass. Next time, I'll knock you where the sun don't shine." She smashed her beer bottle at his feet, quickly exiting the house and slamming the door behind her.

I quickly walked over to Sam, placing my hand on his arm and pulling him up.

"Come on." I spoke quietly as I tugged him towards the kitchen, Dean exiting after Max and Bobby following me. This really was ridiculous.


	4. The Return, Part 1

**Present Time**

**(Four Years Later)**

_Maple Grove Cemetery_

_Wichita, Kansas_

Rain poured down from the unforgiving sky, hitting the once-dry grass of Maple Grove Cemetery. In the second row, three tombstones down, a tombstone reads:

_Max Mortenson_

_Loving sister, best friend and daughter_

_June 13, 1980 – February 2, 2002_

The ground above the grave, two years old, slowly begins to break. Fingers, dirty and wet, break through the wet mud. Gradually, a full hand appears and grabs hold of the grass, struggling to pull the owner up with it. Another emerges after a few minutes and grabs hold of the grass as well. A muffled grunt can be heard and seconds later, a head of dark black makes it to the surface.

"Damn it." Her voice can barely be heard over the loudness of the rain. She pulls herself out, slowly revealing leather clothing, and dirt-covered skin. Within ten minutes, she had successfully pulled herself up, barely managing to do so as the grave caved in. Standing, she braced herself against a tombstone beside her.

"Why? Why the burial? I told you not to bury me, Karen, I told you!" She said, thinking aloud.

Glancing around, she stood once more and began to walk out of the cemetery, limping most of the way.

* * *

Dean polished off the beer and rather loudly set it down on the table. Sam had left less than a half an hour ago, saying something about food. Naturally, Dean had told him not to forget the pie. So here he was, in Wichita, Kansas, alone in a hotel room, drinking himself drunk. Or at least trying to. All he could think about was Max. She'd died here, not long before he made the deal with the Crossroads Demon to save Sam.

He remembered holding her and trying to suppress the blood pouring from her wound. Of course, the demon had just laughed and disappeared, which he didn't really understand (the disappearing part). He'd remembered listening to her as she died…

"_I'm going to die here, Dean."_

_Dean tried his damnest to try not to show any emotion but failed._

"_No you're not. You're going to be just fine." He glanced around the warehouse and cursed himself for coming here alone. She gently grabbed the side of his face and pulled his face back to look at her. Her eyes were serious and nearly glassy. She didn't have long…_

"_Listen to me, Dean. No matter what, you keep goin', okay? Keep walking." She brought his face closer, staring deep into his eyes._

"_Don't stop." She said firmly and slowly._

"_Okay." He said quietly, nodding. "Alright I will, but you gotta make it." _

_She smiled, even with blood gushing from her ribs. Gently, she pulled him down into a kiss. One last kiss. Dean knew she was gone when her hand slipped from his neck and she stopped kissing him, her body going limp as it was released from the pain. Feeling tears gather in his eyes, he pressed his face into her shoulder, inhaling the deep scent of leather and __**Max**__._

Dean took another long drink of the second beer, shifting on the corner of the table. Dean wasn't the emotional type but he had to admit, he missed her. He missed her cocky smile, her sarcastic remarks…just her in general. With her near, he felt at peace with his life as a hunter and that was something that rarely happened. When she wasn't around, he dreamed about her. When she was there, he still dreamed about her. Maybe he lov—.

_Knock. Knock._

Dean's eyebrows wrinkled at the two knocks that came to his door in rapid succession. They were loud and very fast, panicked almost. Slowly, he set his beer down and walked over to the bed. He removed the pillow and grabbed his gun, removing the safety and slowly stalking over to the door. Grabbing the handle, he cautiously opened the door…

"God Dean, you take forever to open a god-damn door!"

"M-Max." He surveyed the dirt-covered, alive dead woman standing at his door. She wore the same outfit she did the day she died, and blood was still stained on the shiny black leather of her jacket. She stepped in but before she could anything, he quickly embraced her in a super-tight bear hug. Though surprised and unable to breathe, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back.

"I'll take it you missed me?"


End file.
